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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24801469">His Favorite Flower</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/birchwoods01/pseuds/Brit%20Hux-Tico'>Brit Hux-Tico (birchwoods01)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Wars Sequel Trilogy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, Gingerflower, Gingerose, Gingerrose - Freeform, Lonely madness, Mild starvation, Potential claustrophobia trigger, Romance, True Love, prisoner, small prison cell</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 00:49:06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>7,880</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24801469</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/birchwoods01/pseuds/Brit%20Hux-Tico</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The First Order has fallen and General Armitage Hux has been arrested for war crimes against the New Republic. He's left to rot in a cell and think about what he's done, and the beautiful flower he's left behind.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Armitage Hux/Rose Tico</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>83</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>His Favorite Flower</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hello, beautiful reader! I'm so glad you've found your way to this story of mine. I've had a rough time lately, creatively, and somehow this <a href="https://twitter.com/WeAreBenSolo/status/1272920442341396482?s=20">prompt</a> just clicked for me. I'm very grateful to have such a supportive fandom community to be able to share my writing ideas with all of you and trust a safe response. Thank you so much! </p><p>Thank you to my effervescent beta-reader, <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElfMaidenOfLight/pseuds/ElfMaidenOfLight"> @ElfMaidenOfLight</a>, for doing the most fabulous job and always making me feel like my work has value! I really appreciate you! And to Diana, for being a vibrant and wonderful supporter and saying such kind things about my work! You're both such excellent fandom friends, I hope I can return the favor someday!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Days turned to months, turned to standard years. He lost track of time, initially feeling it foolish and petty and too weak to give in to keeping time as a prisoner. He wouldn’t be one of those; he would rise above it, prove his metal, his strength, keep his dignity. By the time he did start making little scratches on the wall, mad out of his mind in the silence and the dark, it was too late to determine for how long he had already been within the cell.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They did not treat him barbarically. They allowed him to wash his hair and an occasional trim of the excess. They kept him well nourished, but all of this was done by droid and with absolutely no human contact, to prevent his potential escape by either attack or manipulation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Normally, Armitage Hux was used to being alone. But this loneliness…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This was torture he had never imagined.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He supposed he deserved it, for what he’d done as General of the First Order. He reasoned with himself, out loud in minor mutterings in the dark, that any army or political organization with good sense would do the same. There was simply no reason to let him go about living a normal life after the war. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But they could have executed him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was </span>
  <em>
    <span>she </span>
  </em>
  <span>who had saved his life. Her… the girl…</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Rose</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Flowers are useless and trivial,” he mumbled to himself whenever her name would tiptoe across his thoughts like falling stars, skittering across the surface of a placid lake. “There is no purpose to them. They bloom beautifully for you and then they die.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But Rose was very much alive. And because of her, so was he. But they had been separated, and with all his time in prison, Hux had started to believe he was better off for it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He thought well of her less and less as time went on. He had not been foolish enough to ever outright hope that they could ever be together, just the two of them. But he had never considered the idea of her with someone else, in the arms of another while he wasted away, lonely and going mad in a New Republic prison.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her smile, something once warm and beautiful that caused insane sensations to bloom and blossom within his chest, now haunted him, floating behind his eyes, some specter, as if it were directed toward someone else.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hux bid her memory farewell to keep his sanity.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hux took to using his energy to bang on walls and demand tools, books, something, anything to help occupy his mind. The trap door in the ceiling would open and a droid would descend with meals or bathing equipment and empty his waste bin, but no human voice would make a sound at the top of the long cell shaft.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was utterly, entirely alone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Which left only one option: to explore the cell.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Early on in his days as a prisoner, he had discovered the cell he was housed in was mostly made of organic material behind durasteel plates. One corner of a plate was rusted out and bent away due to the damp conditions. Behind that plate was rock, as well as soil.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>All evidence directed him to believe his cell was underground. He had not been conscious when he’d been transferred, having been induced into a temporary medical coma for transport. He was not even certain which planet he was on.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It took him many hours, perhaps days, to work the large chunk of durasteel away from the bigger piece, feeling along in the dim light from the single murky lighting panel in the ceiling high up above his head for rusty edges, mourning the damage that was being caused to the pair of gloves they’d allowed him to keep for warmth, but grateful for the protection against his fingers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then, utilizing the chunk of durasteel panel as a makeshift trowel, Hux began to chip and hack his way through the wall.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He had no hope of emerging, really. No potential idea of escape. It was merely something productive to do, a light at the end of the tunnel to keep him from pondering the taking of his own life to end the misery.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He had long ago decided that suicide would not be the way he left the galaxy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But things were looking grim.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So he entertained his project instead, imagining to himself that he might dig up some interesting material with which he could tinker, geographical formations buried within the soil, some sort of insect he could study, perhaps even an underground mammal forming tunnels.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Anything to get his mind off his imprisonment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His captors never noticed his digging project. Hux mused they likely assumed him no longer a threat, now that his fangs had been removed at the dismantling of the First Order. They probably thought he had no seemingly useful tools at his fingertips to cause harm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He liked to think, however, as he dug and dug day after day, that he was showing them exactly how much of a fighter and survivor he really and truly could be.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then, one day, he spotted light.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It happened purely by accident. He’d managed to carve out a good portion of the wall, continuing d with feverish indignity to hack away at the weak spot in the tunnel he was creating, until he made one disappointing misstep in the dark and removed a portion of dirt and rock before the top had been secured.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Piles of rubble and rock and, strangely enough, something that felt like moss, came bearing down upon his head. He was half crushed beneath it all, though it was a small enough pile that he could easily tell nothing was broken upon lifting his head and torso to peer through the sudden gloom.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A pure, golden light was streaming onto his face just before him, blinding his pale green eyes that had become accustomed to only seeing in the dark. He hissed and snarled, raising his hand to cover his eyes, but pushed himself to his knees and crawled forward, eagerly, toward the light.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hux worked harder and more eagerly than he ever had before, pushing his hands toward the small hole, pressing against the sides of the soil, jamming his durasteel plate into rock and sediment, chipping away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In a few hours, he was free.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Except he wasn’t.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Armitage Hux crawled out of the hole he had created, slithering on his belly like a snake through cool, sweet smelling grass, the beads of dew smearing with the soil on his former First Order uniform, now filthy and ruined, in near tatters. Letting out an exhausted sob as he inhaled the sweetest air he’d ever tasted, he pushed himself shakily to his feet and felt tears spring to his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was standing in the middle of a high-walled courtyard, the walls made of limestone brick and mortar, and covered with the most beautiful and luscious greenery he’d ever seen. Around him were flowers and plants of all shapes and kinds and colors.The smells were divine, unusually unique and beautiful in their own individual way. He was forced to acknowledge their presence with the slightest of gasps off the tip of his tongue, as he stumbled forward through the rubble of the hillside he had broken through, turning to look for a way out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was none. No gate that he could see; no entrance, just walls, too high to scale, not safe enough to climb.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’d left one prison and entered another.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hux walked round and round the small garden area, pushing his way through thick, overgrown bushes, running gloved fingers along the stone, seeking a way out, any way out. He finally collapsed, exhausted, into the dewy grasses once more, sobbing out a cry of frustration.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His captors could not be this cruel, surely, to play mind games with him. To put him in a little cell and tempt him with an exit that only led to a larger one.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And sure, Hux would later ponder how nice it was to have plants to look after, to tend, to experiment with breeding tendencies and track growth patterns; something to occupy his mind, but for now, he was too tired and robbed of all hope.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He removed one glove and scratched through his scraggly beard. It’d been a long time since he’d last been awarded shaving privileges. Perhaps they were disappointed that he’d not used the particularly dull razor the droid offered him to slit his own throat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Glancing upward into the falling twilight, his eyes landed on an enormous and velvet-petaled scarlet rose. It was so fat and heavy that it bent away from its fellows and was almost kissing his face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sight of it made him cry.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He allowed it to happen. There was no one to see weakness, no reason, really, to care anymore. Silent silver tears streamed down the sides of his face and dripped into the grass, leaving streaks of grime and filth through the dirt on his face. He made no sound, but studied the flower before him through the water in his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Delicately, he reached out and touched the petals with his fingertips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He had loved her, really, truly loved her. Loved her spirit and her heart, her smile and her warmth, her brilliance and stubbornness, her genius and ingenuity. She had truly been his equal, a match against him… </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>For</span>
  </em>
  <span> him…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Philosophy was silly, yet had its uses, and Hux pondered now how different life might have been, had he met Rose before his ambition had matched and eventually eclipsed his father’s.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He would certainly not be here, in this bizarre prison within prisons.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He might be in bed, naked, tucked up against the warmth of her curves and giggles and teasing banter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He closed his eyes and imagined that the silky touch of the petals beneath his fingers were the round curve of her soft cheek.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hux took the flower with him that evening. He knew it would die now it was cut, but he liked to imagine it as a placeholder for her, a companion in his loneliness, as he chewed woodenly at his supper, seated on the dirty floor across from the rose.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tomorrow we will search harder for an exit,” Hux told her. “My life may have little meaning now, yet I will find a way. We will leave this place.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He caught himself, smirking wryly and shaking his head just slightly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not we, actually, my petal. I’m afraid you may not make it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But he had found an old discarded vessel used for gardening beneath a great heap of vines, and had filled it with water from his dinner allowance, in which the rose was now seated. He would keep the flower alive as long as he could, and perhaps dry the petals when she had passed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In this way, Hux comforted himself enough to fall into a deep and dreamless sleep for the very first time since his imprisonment. No nightmares haunted him at the corners of his dreams, no worries or troubles woke him panting in the night, no memories of his father with a finger pointed into Armitage’s face laughing at how he had ultimately amounted to nothing, just as he’d predicted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The next day, he awoke in midafternoon, having lost all sense of time within the cell, though a soft light was shining through the length of the tunnel. He worried mildly that the droid might recognize a new source of light and alert his lazy captors, but the droid only visited him once a day, likely in the evenings as it had the night before. He should be fine.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He rose and ran his fingers through his scruffy, greasy hair, smoothing it as best he could, and relieved himself into the waste receptacle in the corner. He did his best to clean his hands with a tiny bit of leftover water and rubbing gritty sand gravel between his palms. At least it felt clean. Then he gathered the vessel holding his rose and emerged from the tunnel out into his broader prison.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The rose rested in the shade away from the heat of the small pinkish sun in the sky while Hux roamed the four walls of the garden, pushing aside vines and seeking any sort of exit, any at all, that would free him. His search proved fruitful, as within the hour he had located a large, heavy wooden door hidden beneath tangles of vines.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shoved them away quickly, eagerly, feeling for a rustic handle, searching for a control panel on the sides of the door in case it was pneumatic. But he found nothing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was a manually operated door; he could tell as he cleared the many pounds of ivy and vine away from it. It was thick and wooden, and did not sound hollow when he knocked on it, rimmed in thick, crudely formed durasteel. That, coupled with the architecture, along with the climate and the types of plants and flowers that bloomed here, gave him some clue as to his location in the galaxy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Perhaps Naboo or Takodana, or even some part of Cantonica, though it was a bit too temperate for a desert planet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Knowing the planet could wait. Hux needed to figure out a way to get the door open.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He uncovered a table with two broken legs, half sunk into the earth, off of which various gardening tools had tumbled and been buried beneath weeds and greenery, near where he’d found the vessel for his rose the day before. Among the refuse were a damaged spanner, a  clay-crusted rake, and a sack of potting soil that had molded and reeked. His nose wrinkled as he kicked the sack away from him and strode back to his cell to fetch the durasteel chunk that he had dug with.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Excitement thrummed within his very veins as he squatted elegantly down onto the soil next to the rose, a good distance away from the door. He began to run geometrical equations in his head, rapidly flicking through considerations of force, the laws of physics, and the strength of his tools. He knew how much weight he was able to place upon an object- or at least what he’d been able to do before he’d been stuck in a cell for however long- and subtracted a few digits from the total sum, estimated the proper force the durasteel could take, and the weight of the door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Within a matter of minutes he had figured it out, and rose to his feet with a confident and smug smirk on his lips. For the first time in a long time he was starting to feel like himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Taking the spanner in hand, he altered the adjustments of the tip, manually telescoping the prongs until it had a sharp point, then jammed it into the chunky durasteel borders of the solid wooden door, effectively separating it from the wooden surface for about a centimeter of space, but it would do.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He took the chunk of durasteel from his cell then and began to work it into the space created by the spanner tip. It was hard work, and he was sweating profusely by the time he got it under, but by levering it against the door, he slowly began to pry the iron border away from the wood. In this manner he worked, moving around the edges of the door, removing the durasteel with painstakingly slow presses of his scrap lever.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>By the time he neared the bottom, his shoulder muscles were burning and aching, shooting sharp pains down his back, and he was beginning to smell his own odor from days of not bathing and now sweating in the sunlight, covered in filth and grime, like some pig.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But as the durasteel frame finally popped off of the door and with a groan of metallic fury and fell backward, over Hux’s ducked head, into the soil beneath his feet, he knew the pain was worth it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The only barrier left now was the door itself, but as he stepped back and removed the spanner from the door, it creaked forward on old, rusty hinges just slightly, now loose and easy to maneuver.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hux’s heart sped up fast. He was moments merely away from freedom. Perhaps he could ponder a future afterall. Perhaps he could go back to Arkanis, retrieve his father’s savings, rebuild a life somewhere.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Perhaps he could-… maybe he could find her…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But his relief and hope and joy was short-lived and immediately cut off as he heaved open the door, his shoulders protesting, and stepped into yet another walled off area.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Exhausted and panting for breath, Hux sank to his knees in the grass and wiped the salt of sweat off his lip, peering through the late afternoon sun at the image before him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There were more walls this time, some of them maze-like off in the distance, and so many plants and trees and flowers, even a pond with a slight waterfall that echoed off of the stone around the space. And around him were ruins, too: beautiful, old stone buildings created by someone probably rather wealthy, someone with time and money and elaborate pretense to feel they needed all this grandeur.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not Takodana, then. It couldn’t be afforded. The most likely answer was Naboo.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His eyes settled on a rather still-intact building that looked like an elaborate little cottage. The front entrance was covered with ivy, made of beautifully carved marble columns, and he could see the front door, which was manual as well, but had a handle. He started to his feet, intending on approaching the building and testing the door, more curious about the idea of finding something inside to occupy his mind than the idea of escape, when the door swung outward suddenly and he stilled, his heart seizing in his chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A young woman with dark hair pulled back into one large, messy bun emerged from the cottage, dressed in a simple pale green tunic and satin-looking cream trousers, her warm brown eyes squinting small against the light of the pink sun, her pretty mouth tucked into a frown.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hux placed his hands on his knees and sat very still, staring at her across the garden.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re losing it, General,” he muttered to himself under his breath, vaguely wondering when the last time he’d had a sip of water had been.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The mirage of her, of Rose, traipsed down a rickety stone path, a ceramic pot in her hand, and paused at the pool, kneeling down to dip the pot into the surface of the water. Hux watched her, fascinated, his heart now pounding heavily in his chest, as she heaved the now heavy vessel out of the water, sloshing some of it out onto her pants, crying out in dismay as she dragged it steady onto the stone surface. A piece of black hair had fallen out of her bun into her face and she pushed it back with a wet palm, the hair sticking to her cheek.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She was more beautiful than he’d even remembered, likely conjured by his fantasy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He watched as she turned and got to her feet, beginning to lift the pot up into her hands and carry it back toward the house, not seeing him. He figured it was either because she was a figment of his imagination, or because he was concealed by the tall grasses and flowers around them, or both.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Rose.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She turned at the sound of his voice and the pot slipped out of her hands and shattered on the stone beneath her, water surging around her feet, as a half-gasp, half-whine expelled itself out of her lungs and she broke off in a run.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hux managed to get to his feet as she closed in on him, and luckily so, for she launched herself entirely through the air and latched onto him with such strength he almost felt his spine snap.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She was crying, loud, sobbing, ugly tears that were so beautiful. He’d never seen anything so lovely; her face was pressed in his shoulder, her hair against his nose and lips. She smelled heavenly and just the same as ever, like warmth and joy and peace.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hux clutched her desperately to him, his arms wound right around her back to keep her there, but he was weakened from prison, and stumbled beneath her weight. They tumbled into the grass, Rose on top of him, where she pinned him down with frantic kisses all over his filthy face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Normally Hux would have been disgusted, would have pushed her away, told her to leave him be until he were more suited for her admiration, but he was enamored by the sight and feel and sound and smell of her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She felt so real, to be a figment of his imagination.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He stared at her in awe as she sat up, fat tears rolling down her cheeks as she studied him with a sad smile. His hands clutched her hips, so soft and warm and round in his palms; so perfect. The weight of her was just as he remembered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So real. So beautiful. So precious.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rose was trying to speak. Her lips moved, pursed, then frowned deeper as she took in his appearance and her composure snapped as her cheeks turned down and fresh tears boiled over. She lay down to press into his chest again, nuzzling her head under his chin and fisting her hands into his shirt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How are you here?” she gasped breathlessly between sorrowful hiccups. “I knew I was close to where they were keeping you but not close enough to see you!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hux did not respond as he lay still as stone beneath her, raising one hand to slowly undo the hair tie around her bun. Lucious dark waves cascaded down over her shoulders and spilled onto his chest. He stared at her in utter admiration, running his fingers through the soft, fragrant tresses, stroking the top of her head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You are so beautiful,” he breathed, just barely audible, and Rose winced with fresh tears anew.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She slid up his body, hands planted on his chest to support her, then grasped onto his bearded chin, cupping one palm against his emaciated and grime-covered cheek.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did you break out?” Rose questioned him again, meeting his gaze as close as she could without going cross eyed. “Did you break out of your cell, Hux?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He did not respond, but merely brushed his dry lips over the tip of her nose in a slight kiss. Rose’s heart melted with the gesture, despite her displeasure and trepidation at his appearance. She had never seen him like this. He wasn’t acting himself at all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hux,” Rose uttered firmly as she pressed both of his cheeks between her palms, her face so close to his. “Tell me how you got out of your cell. Where did you come from?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His glassy green eyes slowly began to fill with life again as she stared at him. She could see the realization dawning, wondered if he even knew where he was or that she was really there, could see the fear and the pain and the loneliness of his imprisonment return to his face as it cracked with the most agonized expression she had ever seen him give.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are-… are you… you…,” Hux managed, stammering as his eyes flicked rapidly over every point of her face. “… really here?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rose stroked a thumb over his lips, gazing at him with loving concern.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” she uttered breathlessly. “Yes, Hux. It’s me. I’m here… Rose.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hux’s face flooded with shame and mortification. He tried to sit up, to pull away from her, pushed at her with his broad hands as he pulled himself up, shaking his head and muttering “no, no, no” over and over.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But Rose stayed put, grasped him by the shoulders and forced him to lie still, but he refused to meet her eye and looked away, gaze stony and hard, jaw tight as he grit his teeth against all emotion.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rose understood what was happening more than anyone else in the entire galaxy, as she’d had to battle against it the months they had been handler and spy, had to work to break down his walls just so he’d let her in to help tender his heart.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was scared, and he felt weak, and when Armitage Hux was scared and weak, he put up a front until even he believed he no longer was.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But Rose had gentle hands and an even gentler heart.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And Rose loved him, complicated villain that he had been.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She pressed her palm against his chest and tipped a gentle finger beneath his chin, turning his face back to her, then lowered herself and claimed his mouth in the softest, sweetest of kisses.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He did not kiss her back, but the strict expression on his face melted somewhat, softened in the eyes as he took her in once more, a balm for his ailments.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come with me,” Rose whispered, and got to her feet. Taking him by the hand, she helped him up and wrapped an arm around his thin waist. He didn’t need her help to walk, and their height difference made it awkward, but she refused not to touch him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was going to fill the bath when you stumbled in here,” Rose explained as they hobbled toward the house. “There’s a water pump inside, but the house is so old and unused that it needed a bit of water forced into the pipes to get it going again. I think there’s a well beneath the house.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rose rambled her explanations as they stepped inside. Hux examined the small space with wary eyes, feeling disoriented and very much like he’d awoken within a dream. Just a day ago he’d been sitting in a dark, cramped space, alone and trying very hard not to think about her, and now here she was, soft and lovely and perfect, in this bizarre house, within this bizarre garden.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was all too good to be true.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rose was studying him quietly from the doorway, worrying at her bottom lip with her teeth, gaze full of concern.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The cottage was small within, but had been expensive and luxurious once. One side of the building had a tiny hole in the roof, but ivy and other plant matter had grown over the hole and down inside, adding a natural quality to the place that was quite quaint. A large, marble carved headboard and bed stood in the corner of the place, behind a partition was the refresher which contained a large bath standing on four legs. A food preparation area was present as well, decorated with pretty china and delicate crystal cups.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Someone very wealthy had lived here once, or at least stayed here.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The Queen of Naboo,” Rose uttered softly behind him as if he had spoken out loud.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hux turned to gaze at her with wide eyes, his mouth slack.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rose’s heart worried within her chest, beating rapidly with hurt longing for him. It had been almost a full standard year since he had been arrested, and he looked awful. His normally sharp cheekbones jutted out on his face, giving him a gaunt, deathly appearance beneath the filth, grime, greasy hair and scraggly beard. His uniform, once tight and trim and fit, was in tatters and hung off of him like he were a mere skeleton, He  was even paler than before, when he’d been stuck on a ship in space for all eternity.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He seemed a little scrambled in the brain, too. But Rose didn’t care.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This was the man she’d fallen in love with, however reluctantly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This was the man she had chosen to love.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was why she was here.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait here. I’ll get the water,” Rose uttered as warmly as she could muster, then fetched a large pitcher from the preparatory area and disappeared outside. Hux wandered over to the doorway like a wraith to watch her, terrified if he let his eyes off of her, she might disappear into the garden like a ghost.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But she was really there, or seemed to be, as he watched her bend down, fill the pitcher with water, and return to him quickly. As she passed him in the doorway, she leaned up and pecked his cheek with a warm kiss before moving past him toward the fresher partition.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hux followed closely on her heels.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You should… stop kissing me until I am clean. I’m certain I am foul at the moment.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rose grinned where he could not see her, honestly relieved at his complaint. It seemed much more normal for him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s why you’re gonna bathe, right? I’ll smother you with them when you’re done.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She glanced at him over her shoulder, examining his face as he examined the little cottage once more. Before his imprisonment, his cheeks would have taken on the barest hint of blushes as she spoke so brazenly to him. Unfortunately, either he was so changed by his time in his cell or his face was so filthy, it was hard to see. It caused her stomach to swoop with a dangerous anxiety.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clearing her throat, Rose turned to a panel in the floor and flipped it up, exposing the manual plumbing beneath the tub.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That drew Hux’s attention, and he soon crouched down on the floor beside her, his palms flat on the marble tile, gazing with interest into the pipes and tubes below.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Manual… manual plumbing? What is this place?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rose grinned. “One of the Queen’s was ill and loved gardens. They built this place for her to retreat to away from the prying eyes of her people when she was not feeling well. The remote location made it difficult for current technologies.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The word remote echoed in Hux’s brain, proof that his imprisonment was meant to be a ‘toss in a cell and forget he ever existed’ kind of situation. It made him feel sick to his stomach.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For the first time since realizing she was really here with him, he wondered why Rose was here. How had she come to be in an old Queen’s cottage retreat, fixing the plumbing and filling a tub with bath water?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But before he could ask, Rose was taking a spanner to the pipes, and Hux bit his tongue to watch her work, that old feeling of pride swelling up within him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He did not have the right to be proud of her work, as if he had been the one to teach her or help her with her accomplishments, so he was unsure of where the feeling came from. But there was a oneness, a wholeness, a completion to her skill being comparable to his, and he’d never tell her, but he loved to watch her work almost as much as he loved working on things himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Within mere minutes, Rose had located the misbehaving pipe and fixed the suction issues. Replacing the panel over the plumbing, she got to her feet and turned the manual handle on the water spicket over the tub. Clear, refreshing water came bursting out and quickly filled the space.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oooh, feel,” Rose commanded him, and reached for his hand. She grasped it tenderly and thrust it beneath the water.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was just hotter than lukewarm, a perfect temperature, and Hux stared at the surface of the broiling water with longing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rose stood up to her full height, her cheeks just slightly pink, her hands fiddling with the hem of her shirt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you-… er… I mean, do you mind if I-… if I help?” she questioned in a soft voice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hux met her gaze, an old echo of emotion filling him at the sight of her slight embarrassment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Help me… help me bathe?” Hux sought clarification, unsure of her meaning and even more unsure if he wanted her assistance.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But Rose just stared at him as a small smile broke out on her lips, one that was still a little sad, a little lonely, a little forlorn. Their separation must have been hard on her, too. That is… if she still felt the same way as before he’d been arrested.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“… please?” Rose all but begged.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hux looked away from her but nodded almost imperceptibly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rose grinned and turned her back to him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Strip and get in. I won’t look until you’re covered.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a sigh, Hux got to his feet and began to peel clothing away from his body, damp with sweat from the activity of breaking down the door, reeking from days of no washing. He felt a pang of sorrow as he let the tattered articles fall to the floor, when normally he would have folded them with pristine care. There was no point any longer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nude, but feeling like he wore a second layer of skin with all the grime covering him, Hux stepped into the bath, letting out a helpless sort of groan at the feel of the warmth on his tired muscles and bones. He seated himself as best he could and stretched out his legs, the water sloshing around him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he’d settled, Rose turned and examined his face. He did not meet her eye.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He knew he was probably even more thin now, perhaps emaciated, weak and disgusting looking. Before he’d been imprisoned, they had made love only twice, one of their encounters hardly warranting the word. But the second, she’d made it quite clear how much she adored his body.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But the old shame was back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rose hummed happily to herself, as if there was no problem, and knelt beside the tub to pick up his things.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wash yourself. There’s a bar of soap there. I’m going to wash your things and let them dry, then we can see about mending them,” Rose explained before stepping away from the tub.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t-,” Hux called after her, and she paused.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He stared at her with a hollow, wavering gaze, his frown deep.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t go far, please,” he managed quietly, running his eyes up and down her form as if she might disappear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rose smiled beautifully for him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll be right over there,” she pointed to the preparatory area. “I’ll wash these in the sink, okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hux stared at the blurry image of his pale body beneath the water's surface as the sounds of Rose washing his clothing vigorously with some sort of brush behind him filled the space. It took him a moment to act, to push himself forward into caring, but once the soap was in his hand, it was like a shot of adrenaline had been pushed through his veins.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He scrubbed away the grime and filth until the water was a murky, muddy brown and his skin was pink from the aggravated scrubbing. Just as he lay the soap to the side, Rose returned and knelt beside the tub once more, running her hand down the back of his damp head, stroking his shoulder length hair down into place on his neck.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He filled with warmth as she leaned in and kissed his temple.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh, how he had missed her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why are you here?” he found himself whispering to her, his eyes burning as if he were to cry, but dry as a dessert.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rose unplugged the drain to let the filthy water release, carefully keeping her eyes away from his nakedness, to protect his shame.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“When you were arrested, they took you off world. It took me forever to find you,” Rose began, her voice cracking with emotion. She took a deep breath and swallowed it down, then gave him a sad little smile. “I’ve been petitioning the Council to lessen your sentence and release you early… doing everything I can, really, but-… they’re not having it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hux nodded slightly, his jaw tightening and eyes glazing over with a hard look.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“As is expected of them,” he agreed. “But why are you </span>
  <em>
    <span>here</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, well,” Rose gave him a wry smile then, and replaced the plug in the tub, turning the knobs to fill it again with clean water. “When I learned they were holding you on Naboo, I hired an old hacker friend to find out exactly where your cell was.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“An old hacker friend?” Hux repeated drily. “You-… you didn’t. Not him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rose laughed softly under her breath and nodded her head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yup. DJ.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hux barely resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “That man is deplorable. He sold you and the entire Resistance out for a cart full of credits.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And who’s the one that made the deal with him?” Rose narrowed a stern look on him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hux returned her look with a stern and firm expression.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“As General, it is my duty to know exactly which buttons to press to get what will help the Order succeed. His loyalty is the genuine culprit, not I-,” but Hux broke off, realizing what he had just said.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>As General, it is my duty…</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>It </span>
  <em>
    <span>was</span>
  </em>
  <span> his duty. He was no longer a General of anything. The First Order had been dismantled and he had been publicly stripped of all titles before being thrown into a cell to rot forevermore.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They had wanted to execute him, and would have, if it were not for the Lieutenant General of the Resistance who spoke up for him and made public all the things that he had done for the good of the Resistance, however reluctantly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come back to me,” Rose was whispering, her fingers in his hair, her mouth hovering dangerously close to his.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hux studied her pretty, full lips, imagined tasting them again, and his green gaze flicked up to meet her eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So,” he began, licking his dry lips and resisting a frown as she pulled away. “You located my cell, discovered these ruins, and just… what? Moved in to be close to me, even in prison?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rose smiled to herself as she turned off the water, the tub once again full, and moved to a cabinet to retrieve some items.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I haven’t ‘moved in’. I have a place in town, but I spend a few days here off and on while researching and planning, just to feel close to you,” Rose uttered gently as she returned, pulling up a little table beside the tub and seating herself on it. “I even pondered breaking you out, but I’m trying every legal way first. I don’t want you to have to live like you’re on the run.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hux studied her eyes, wondering what she was planning now that he was out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is that it, then? I’m out… we can go on the run. We can leave now, this instant.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rose took hold of the soap and cupped the side of his face, lathering some into his beard to lubricate against the razor she was holding. Hux reached up and grabbed her wrist to stop her, their eyes locked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Leave it. It will help disguise me as we leave,” he instructed her softly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rose sighed and shook her head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hux, no. You need… you need to be patient. You need to go back to your cell and wait. I don’t want you to have to live a life on the run.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s my life, I can make that decision,” Hux insisted gruffly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rose snorted. “And it’s my life, too, and I would rather avoid having to live my entire life hiding out in some swamp with a hairy ginger monster, if I can help it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hux went very still as her words sunk in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She wanted to </span>
  <em>
    <span>live</span>
  </em>
  <span> with him? Her </span>
  <em>
    <span>entire life</span>
  </em>
  <span>?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The most brilliant and stubborn and beautiful ray of sunshine to ever exist wanted to be with him… the former General of the First Order, Starkiller architect, ruiner of lives for the sake of a failed governmental construct.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was so lost in the brilliance of this admission that he missed the first swipe of the blade, a tumble of scraggly ginger hair falling into the tub.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He jumped and pulled away from her slightly, causing Rose to laugh.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sit still or I’m going to nick you,” she chastised softly, her breath a cool bloom against his ear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Time passed in silence as Rose carefully worked the blade along his jawline, removing the months worth of growth Hux had desperately wanted gone. He watched her face as she worked, steadily glowing warmer and hotter with affection for her as she did so, knowing that she was doing this because she knew him, knew him well enough to know that a clean shaven face was the best way to present oneself to be taken seriously. Knowing that he needed to feel like himself again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hux had never felt such strong and sturdy emotion for another human being in his entire life. He felt almost faint from it, lightheaded and aching.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Will you… will you trim my hair, too, please?” he asked quietly, his eyes studiously averted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The breath of her laugh hit his neck and caused a tingle down his spine.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, Hux,” she promised.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A half hour later, Hux looked so much more like himself, was</span>
  <em>
    <span> feeling</span>
  </em>
  <span> even more like himself. He stood in the little cottage, wrapped in a blanket from the large bed. Rose examined him lovingly, her heart panging to see the even more prominent cheekbones on his gaunt face, the even thinner frame beneath the blankets edge at his back. But she smiled brightly and approached him, placing her palms on his clean cheeks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There you are,” she whispered, and leaned up on her toes, pressing into him to kiss him deeply.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hux stood still for a long moment, his heart fluttering and festering within his chest, until he could no longer bear it. He opened the blanket clasped in his hands and pulled her within, crushing her in his tight embrace, pulling her up off her feet and kissing her with all of his passion and strength.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rose crooned as she wrapped her arms around his neck, tilting her head to accept his deep affection, their tongues and teeth clashing sloppily, out of practice, causing Rose to giggle and Hux to growl with irritation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He pressed her forward, and they tumbled onto the bed, Hux covering her and crushing her beneath his weight, the blanket folded over them. Rose’s laughing gasps quickly became pants of need, and her legs parted to cradle him closer, eyes squeezing tightly shut as he kissed his way down her throat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His sounds were hunger, like the sounds of a man starved for weeks and presented with a banquet feast. There was no care taken, no patience, no waiting. Rose’s clothes were ripped away from her body and he was back, teasing a nipple with his tongue, taking a sucking bite out of her tummy, running his tongue along the inside of her thigh, grazing her vulva with his teeth, burying his nose within her cunt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rose cried out as he consumed her, one foot planted on his back, the other sprawled wide, her fingers tearing at his soft, damp hair. She came quickly, tears sparkling in the corners of her eyes, his lips wrapped around her tense bud to suckle, as if doing so gave him life.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I-inside me,” Rose managed to gasp, pushing him off of her, turning to her side as Hux rose to fall over her on the bed again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Their eyes met over her shoulder, her head turned, and their lips connected as Hux took one of her thighs in hand and lifted it high, the tip of his cock pressing into her entrance from behind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rose groaned as he sank slowly in, his warm chest pressed into her back, his hand tight on her thigh, her cunt throbbing around the girth of him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It had been so long, too long, and neither had been prepared.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The room filled with grunts and desperate pleas, with thumps from the headboard of the cottage bed rattling against the wall, with tiny moans of “yes, Hux” and “please”, and finally cries of triumph as orgasms peaked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hux came deep inside of her, his teeth buried in her shoulder, his hands tucked under her arms and holding her as close to his body as possible, seeing absolutely sweet stars as her pussy clamped and shuddered around him. Rose groaned and turned her face, seeking his lips, and he kissed her sloppily, distractedly, gasping for breath as the aftershock began to wear off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Neither of them moved. The blanket hung off of them, covering down from their thighs. Hux stayed inside her, lazily kissing soft trails up and down her neck and shoulders, brushing her hair out of the way to make room for more, worshiping her with his lips. Rose dozed lazily in the affection, her hands holding his arms tight around her, their legs tangled, content to lay there forever, if it were possible.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dark began to fall.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have to return to my cell,” Hux uttered in mild dismay.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rose made a sound of regret and held him tighter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Unless you want to make a run for it,” Hux added, his voice teasingly sharp.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rose sighed deeply and turned around in his arms, his softened cock slipping out of her with a wet sound. She ran her fingers through his hair to straighten it, then cleaned his cock dry with a corner of the blanket, and kissed his lips in a soft, warm peck.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No… I think you better go back to prison now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hux smiled slightly, expression wry, but he leaned down and kissed her deeply, his hand on her throat, thumb on her chin, holding her still. He could feel the warm pulse of her blood beneath his palm, the reality of her being here in his arms.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He hated leaving.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I will return tomorrow,” Hux promised. “Will you be here?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rose met his gaze with one of genuine love. “I promise I will be.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hux dressed reluctantly, his clothing still damp, and after many more kisses and whispers of reluctance and sorrow at having to part, he finally left Rose alone in the cottage with more promises of seeing her again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Upon his return through the door to the courtyard, Hux found his rose still waiting where he had left it, it’s petals now drooping slightly from being left alone in the sun. Hux felt a pang of guilt for her, certain that he never would have regretted the wilting of a flower before, when General of everything.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He picked it up and cradled it gently in his hand, frowning when a few petals discarded onto his palm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hux whispered to the flower, telling it all the things that his mind was thinking, much like he might have said to Millicent once upon a time. He carried it into his cell and placed it on his little cot, thanking it for giving him purpose again, thanking it for guiding him back to her, his favorite flower.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>If you'd like to follow me on <a href="https://twitter.com/ardentlyloveyou">Twitter</a> please do! I love to talk about Hux and Rose, video games, and other various and fun things!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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